Iwon't even say it, my usual. I've been gone, because I have had little time. I think I found somewhere to live. The landlord wants a lot, I want to pay less than a lot, so we're talking. The flat is the perfect size for me.

I am at work, HSBC has been kind enough to have free web access upstairs, except it's cold and the seating is uncomfortable, but it's free, so....

Yours Truly has been been on with TV. It has been an interesting ride, I think cupid has his foot (or is it 'her foot') dangerously close to some sensitive parts right now. I don't do the 'love' thing or I have never done the love thing. But, hmmmn. Me and TV have almost nothing in common. We don't like same films or music, we are so very different. Funnily enough, that is perfect! I need to be dragged outta my cocoon, a place that allows me little time for adventures and other things. We have intersting sex too. Intersting in that I am no longer sure of myself, my ability to please, I have reverted to the nervous me, waiting for directions, eager to please. It's mad!!!! I think that bloody Cupid has something to do with it.

Right now, TV and I are not talking. We had a thing last night. I wanted to talk, TV listened and promptly went back to tapping on the BB. I don't even want to go into in. Suffice it to say that I won't call again but if TV calls, I'll be happy to talk.

I am getting another tatt. The lovely Sugabelly, whose hand in marriage I secretly hope for, has drawn me 'L7' in the Igbo script. I wanted something Nigerian and that is the closest I could get.

I feel taken, like I want to be with TV but it's dangerous. TV doesn't talk to me and I suck at guessing. TV is on mute (lol, see that joke there!). TV would rather talk to twitter. (oh btw, I promised to not to read the twitter account, and I kept my promise, until today when I got rather curious. I confessed. Tv's mad about it. TV reads my blog, L7 is not mad about that. I keep it real on here, no fabrications, so TV reads exactly what I think about everything. What I found on the Twitter was not nice, two entries telling me to go 'Fuck myself'... yikes! I do try (to fuck myself that is) but it's not as much pleasure these days. :-). Oh well)